Ready
by HeadlessHuntsman
Summary: The time has come for Harry's next great adventure... Is Harry ready?


**This is something that popped into my head this afternoon. Let me know what you think. A few things you should know. In my head-canon Harry fights depression and black moods his entire life. Ginny helps with this (she's actually the only one who does) but it's still there. The 'voice' is how Harry has always described the feelings of depression.**

**Disclaimer: I own none of this and will make no money from it.**

**Ready**

The ravages of Winter have given way to the rebirth of Spring. The manicured grass is an emerald green, matching the eyes of the lone wizard standing in front of the marble headstone. He reads the words with reverence and grief. 'Loving mother and devoted wife'. Nothing could be more true. She had always been the rock which he clung to when the 'voice' attempted to take him. It had been two years since she had moved on. He had lost so many in his life. His mother and father, his godfather, his surrogate parents, his best friends and most recently his wife. He still has his three children, seven grandchildren and three great-grandchildren in his life, but there were times in the darkness of the night that the 'voice' came and tormented him. It reminded him he was truly alone, with no one to light his way out of the depression and grief.

He was old now and tired. His previously black hair is now silver. His ever present scar is now lost in the wrinkles of age. He lays the flowers he is holding on the headstone and turns to return home. His legs don't work like the used to and he has to take shuffling steps. He returns to his granddaughter Lana, whom had volunteered to take him to the graveyard. He can not Apparate alone any longer. His bones were too fragile to handle the turning and twisting required.

He kisses his granddaughter goodbye, after she drops him off at his small flat. All of his children have offered for him to live with them. He has continued to refuse, not wanting to give up any semblance of his freedom. He putters around his kitchen fixing himself some tea, before tuning in for the evening. He has to remind himself to eat something. Hunger has left him like all the others. His hands shake as he pours pours his tea.

After forcing himself to eat some soup, that Lily had left for him, he leaves the dishes. He will take care of those tomorrow. He wanted to get ready for bed and be asleep before nightfall. It was easier to get to sleep if it was light out. The 'voice' seems to enjoy the night. He takes his dreamless sleep potion and is soon asleep.

-ooo-

The man wakes up and realizes something is wrong. He reaches for his glasses but cannot find them. It is only then he sees his hands. They are not wrinkled nor are they shaking with palsy. He moves to get out of bed and notices there is no pain. The room about him is white and clean. He stands without the use of his cane and gets dressed. This too is wrong. He dons a white robe he doesn't remember owning. He knows he needs to hurry but he doesn't have any idea why. He stops to look in the dresser mirror before leaving and sees a young man with vibrant green eyes and smooth unwrinkled skin. He looks familiar but the man cannot remember him.

The man leaves his bedroom and he is in a vast open station. The man is confused but he somehow knows he needs to catch a train. Then, as if answering the man's desires, a scarlet engine appears before the man. Connected to the engine are several cars. They are familiar but different. The man realizes he has no luggage but somehow he knows he will need none.

The train whistle warns of departure and the man climbs the stairs into a carriage. This car is filled with people the man feels he should know yet cannot place them.

The young black haired man with a mischievous glint in his eyes sits across from a lanky sandy haired man and his, bubblegum pink haired, companion. They all three say hello to the man and he feels he should know them. In the next group of seats are several people with red hair. Two young men, twins, take turns finishing each others sentences and telling off color jokes. An older red haired woman scolds the twins in a good natured way. The man beside the woman puts, down a book about airplanes and stands to clap the newcomer on the shoulder. The woman stands and gives the newcomer a hug that takes the man's breath but in a good way.

The next seats hold a young man with messy black hair and a stunningly beautiful red haired woman. They both stand and hug the man, telling him how proud they are and urging him to continue.

There are several other people the man sees, he feels he should know their names but it feels as if they are lost in a fog.

The man is drawn past the common seating to the hallway of doors, to the separate rooms. The people behind the man fade into mist and there is only the hallway before him.

The hallway grows dark and cold. In front of the man is a figure in dark robes blocking the mans path. The 'voice' in the man's head makes itself known for the first time. It tells the man to turn back. There is nothing for him here. The man is feeling afraid and lost, as he considers turning back. Maybe this is all a mistake.

The man hears a woman's voice. It calls out to him. It pleads for him to keep going. The man should recognize the woman's voice but the voice of the shade attempts to drown her out. The woman's voice fights back and the shade waivers and starts to fade. The man steels himself and walks forward, concentrating on the woman's voice. The shade protests and shows the man images of his past. The man ignores the shade, gathering strength and bravery from the woman's voice.

As the man passes through the shade, it howls and the man sees the shade writhe and twist like a snake beheaded.

The man find himself before a sliding door. The man senses someone behind the compartment door. He opens the door and the fog which had been clouding his thoughts is lifted. On one side of room sits his two best friends holding hands. They both smile at him and the red headed man nods, to the other side of the room. There sits the owner of the voice. Her brown eyes are fierce with a love that has survived. The man crosses the room and, takes the woman in his arms. For the first time in a long time the 'voice' is quiet and still. The man sits down next to the woman. He takes a large breath and lets it out in an explosive sigh.

"Ready," the man says.

"The Wizarding world lost a great man and hero this last evening. Harry James Potter OMFC died in his London apartment at the age of 109. Mr Potter is best known for the defeat of Lord Voldemort and the subsequent revamping and revolutionizing of the Auror department. He is survived by his three children, seven grandchildren, and three great-grandchildren. He was proceeded in death by his wife, Ginevra. In lieu of flowers, the family has asked that donations be made to the Auror Department's Widows and Orphans Fund.-

For more on the life and accomplishments of Harry Potter please see the Prophet Special Edition, which is available on stands now."


End file.
